Not Your Average Fairytale
by P0isonedApple
Summary: Ariel is in love with her handsome teacher, Belle is forced into working with the temperamental Adam, and Jasmine finds herself being chased by a boy her father would never approve of. Will Ariel, Belle, and Jasmine find their happily ever after? Highschool AU. Lemon content.
1. Chapter I

**Chapter I**

Being a high school student was as far from living a fairy tale as one could get. It was a nightmare where the villains clothed themselves in white button-downs and sharp, hurtful glares. And the princes…

_Oh wait, there weren't any._

Zero. Nil. Zip.

Ariel sighed, chin falling into the cradle of her hand, blue eyes focused intently on her English teacher, drinking thirstily the sight of midnight hair, kind cerulean, and that handsome smile…

True, there weren't any princes at Disney High, but there _was_ Professor Eric, and he was more than enough charming for Ariel.

Eric's eyes met hers briefly before moving around the classroom as if he hadn't looked. Ariel smiled, face warming.

Beside her, Belle placed down her book. "You are being very obvious today."

"Hm?" The redhead queried, glancing at her friend. Realizing what she meant, Ariel shrugged, unbothered. "He's very handsome today, isn't he?"

"He looks the same as always, Ariel." Belle sounded exasperated though she was a bit jealous if she were to be honest. Not that Ariel had a poorly-concealed crush on their professor, but that she had a crush on anyone at all.

In her books, it always sounded so lovely to fall in love…

Now _she_ was sighing. She shook her head, quietly chastising herself for getting distracted from the lesson.

"Alright, so I know this isn't what you want to hear, but I'm going to be pairing you up for your upcoming projects," Eric announced with a slightly apologetic smile, passing handouts around the class.

A few groaned, many sighed. Belle read the instructions eagerly, already excited about the prospect of an in depth book report. Ariel took her handout from Eric, smiling at him as if she'd never been happier in her entire life. He moved on, pretending not to notice.

"Listen out for your partner. I'll give you 'til the end of class to discuss your project together."

Ariel and Belle both slumped a little in their seats, not very excited about being forced into working with someone that wasn't each other. Neither were very fond of their classmates. In general, Ariel seemed to get along with almost anyone. Belle, however, was an entirely different story. Aside from when she was with her friends, she usually tended to feel…_odd_. Not like other people.

She really, really was not looking forward to working with someone that would only make her feel more like an anomaly.

"Ariel." Eric's voice sounded like velvet, the redhead's name tender against his lips, his eyes moving to her. He smiled, and her heart leapt. "You'll be working with Jasmine."

The flaming-haired beauty looked across the classroom, her eyes meeting curious dark brown. Jasmine—beautiful, smart, easygoing. Ariel smiled, pleased.

Belle curled her fingers into the hem of her light-blue skirt, unwilling to admit she was disappointed that her only two options for a good partner had been stolen away. When her name was called, she only felt anxious.

"Belle, I've paired you with Adam."

Her heart sank, plummeted like a figurative rock in her gut. Nodding that she understood, she felt inclined to look over at her assigned partner only to find him already turned in his seat, _glaring _at her.

Her brow crinkled, though she couldn't say she was confused. Adam was known for his temper and for being the wealthiest student in the school. Not only was he spoiled rotten and didn't understand how to treat other people, he was also incredibly good looking, which made it all so much worse, somehow.

However, she wasn't about to let him look at her like that. If they were to work together, he was going to do something about that attitude of his.

There were only a few remaining minutes left of class. Adam refused to move next to Belle, so the brunette decided to take the initiative, taking the empty seat beside his desk.

His arms crossed over his chest, he was looking out the window, scowling.

"We need to decide on what book to read for our report," she began dutifully, taking out the booklist and scanning it.

"You decide yourself. I don't care."

Ignoring another spasm of anger, Belle pressed on, attempting to be cordial. "You should care. I'm not doing the work for both of us. If you want to pass, you need to participate."

He turned to her then, blue eyes piercing beneath angry, caramel brows.

Belle was momentarily startled by his proximity as he leaned over the small space between them, his face in hers as he spoke, voice so low it was nearly a growl. "Fine. Do it yourself." And then he was gone, desk shoved backward as he left.

She sat there, unable to comprehend what went wrong and _why_. It was true Adam was very attractive, but his personality left a bad taste in her mouth.

The bell rang and students began to pack away their things. Belle left without so much a word of goodbye to anyone, quietly fuming about what'd just happened. Ariel waved in parting to Jasmine, taking her time packing away her books until she was the only student left in the classroom.

Eric was seated at his desk when she approached, his eyes downcast, intent on reading the inconsequential details on a student late slip.

"Did you need something, Ariel?" He finally glanced up, his smile natural but tight as his eyes met ocean blue.

"Not really," she answered truthfully, moving around to the less crowded side of his desk and taking a seat on the edge facing him. Her dark green skirt rose on her thighs as she crossed them. Leaning her weight on her left palm, she smiled down at Eric, brushing a cascade of red hair behind her shoulder. "How's Max?"

Eric rolled his chair back to put some distance between himself and his student, his eyes once more glued to a random, inconsequential object. Anything but the beautiful girl on his desktop. If it were anyone else he would've immediately insisted they get down. With her it was different, and it shouldn't be. _Couldn't _be.

"Did he like the toy?" She continued on, unaware as always of her own indecency, that her skirt was much too short and her smile too inviting. "Daddy suggested it, and he usually has good taste."

Eric grinned. "He liked it. Can't say it has much stuffing left."

Ariel laughed, the sound birdlike and musical.

The raven-haired man found himself staring, caught up in her happiness, the way her face lit up and somehow became even more beautiful. _Vibrant_. He brought a hand to his mouth and cleared his throat, the motion an attempt at being more serious. Professional. Everything he was supposed to be when around her, but wasn't.

The doorknob to the classroom rattled as if someone were about to enter. It quieted, but Eric's heart didn't. It was a reminder that at any time someone might step in and see him with her, like this. _This_, her legs crossed and smooth, crimson hair unbound and loose around her shoulders. Beautiful and wonderful and interesting and—

His student.

"You should get down, Ariel."

Her joy dimmed, her disappointment too obvious. But she never did try to hide it. Her feelings for him weren't a secret.

She slipped off his desk quietly, bending to pick up her bag before heading towards the door. He didn't want her to leave, but she needed to. She turned to him. "Will I see you at swim practice?"

"I am the coach, aren't I?"

Their eyes locked, unfulfilled, wanting more, and then she left.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hello and thank you for reading! I've always wanted to write a Disney fic, so here goes! There are going to be three main pairings: Belle/Adam (Beast), Ariel/Eric, Jasmine/Aladdin. Other princesses/princes MAY make an appearance, but they won't be the focus of the story. This story will have **LEMON CONTENT**. If you enjoy it, please leave a review! Feedback is always appreciated!


	2. Chapter II

**Chapter II**

Jasmine was placing her books in her locker when she felt it. Someone was watching her. She glanced around, dark brows angled in curious offense, eyes immediately meeting deep chocolate brown.

A boy was leaning against the locker beside her, arms casually crossed over his stomach, an annoying smirk on his face. His hair was black as midnight, thick and wavy, his skin dark caramel, smooth and unflawed. He was dressed in a ratty-looking dark purple t-shirt, his jeans a faded white. "Hey."

She frowned. "Can I help you?"

He held out his hand. "Just thought I'd finally introduce myself. I'm Aladdin."

Jasmine did not miss the 'finally'. Looking at his hand, she turned away. "I'm not interested."

"_Ouch_." He laughed, the sound giving her pause, making her turn to look back. He was grinning, pretending to flinch against her verbal slap.

Deciding to continue ignoring him, Jasmine made her way towards the school exit, digging inside her purse for her car keys. She stopped when she had difficulty locating them.

"Looking for these?"

Her keys jingled beside her ear, dangling from a slender finger. She whipped around to grab them, but Aladdin had already withdrawn, holding them in his fist. He was smiling, a little less arrogant, the expression complimenting a face Jasmine belatedly realized was quite attractive. And annoying.

"Give those back. Now." She demanded, holding out her hand expectantly.

Aladdin swung her keys around his finger, spinning them and watching them with passive interest. "And what will you give me in return?"

Her hand found purchase on her hip. "Nothing. You stole from me. What makes you think you deserve a reward?"

"Then let's not call it a reward," he suggested, catching her keys and leveling her with a business-like stare, smile still firmly in place, "Let's call it a trade. I'll give you your keys if you give me your number."

Jasmine's eyes narrowed. "No."

Aladdin shrugged, pocketing her keys and making as if to walk away. "Have fun walking home then." He began to whistle, his stride casual and lazy as he traveled along the emptying hallway. He managed to reach the fountains when Jasmine caved.

"Fine." Ripping a piece of paper from her notebook, she scribbled down seven numbers before crumpling the paper into a ball and tossing it at him. It bounced on the polished tile before he picked it up with eager fingers, immediately handing over her keys as promised.

"Don't be so happy. Just because you have my number doesn't mean I'll answer. Enjoy being ignored."

She could be wrong, but he looked impressed beneath the amusement.

His smile was genuine as he waved her goodbye, hers secretive as she turned away.

Aladdin wasn't the only thing Jasmine planned on ignoring. Her stuttering heartbeat was second.

* * *

When it was only practice, Ariel liked to swim with her hair free, even if it meant slowing her speed a few seconds. She enjoyed the rush of water against her scalp, cool and refreshing, the way her locks floated about her face beneath the water, dancing and curling about her shoulders, deep red contrasting brilliantly against aquamarine blue.

But most of all she liked the way Eric looked at her when her ruby tresses were plastered to her damp skin as she rose out of the water. The way she caught him staring as she wrung her hair out. The way his face tensed and his cheeks darkened when he noticed she saw him looking.

And it was because she knew he'd be looking, because he was always looking, that Ariel decided to wear her favorite swimsuit to practice today and not the team-issued uniform swimsuit.

The other girls glanced over jealously, some disapprovingly, as Ariel slipped on her metallic green bikini bottoms and purple top. Bikinis were strictly prohibited for swim practice, and _especially _at school. Exposing so much skin could potentially get her placed in detention.

But if Eric was the one monitoring it, maybe it wouldn't be so horrible…

She exited the locker room alone, her step casual, demeanor unassuming as if she were entirely unaware that she was breaking a few school rules.

"Come here, Ariel."

She smiled.

Eric was seated on a bench beside the pool, his eyes on the water as she approached. Her feet made light tapping sounds on the wet ground, her hands behind her back when she stopped before him.

His eyes remained elsewhere as he spoke. "Where's your uniform?"

"I forgot it at home," she lied. "I'm sorry, Eric."

The casual use of his name had him raising his head to look at her, disapproval tightening his mouth, something _else _darkening his gaze as he tried not to see the flat plane of her bared stomach or the soft swell of her breasts. "You know you can't talk to me like that, Ariel."

She frowned unhappily as she always did when he felt he needed to remind her that they were from two entirely different worlds and that her feelings for him did not change the fact that they could never be together. He was her professor. She was his student. That's all they would ever be. He just didn't know why _he _sometimes had difficulty accepting it.

Guilt had him glancing at the clipboard in his hands, just for something to do. "Go change."

"I don't have anything else."

"Then you won't be joining us today."

"But Eric, I—"

"_Ariel._"

Her mouth snapped closed, thin brows closing in as her eyes threatened moisture. She hated, more than anything, to be spoken to like a child. It just made her feel that much further from him.

Eric struggled to keep his gaze from being imploring, from pleading, knowing he needed to be authoritative and to ask would make this personal. It shouldn't be personal. He didn't know why it _was_ personal. But he knew he didn't enjoy making her upset, didn't like seeing her as anything other than happy.

The appearance of another voice had them realizing they had an audience. "I have another swimsuit if you'd like to borrow it, Ariel."

Ariel turned away from Eric, her hair swiping the small of her back, capturing his attention as it swung and curled against her creamy skin. The curve of her waist was poorly hidden behind the veil of red, her legs seemingly longer and shapelier in the tiny metallic bottoms.

Heat blossomed in his lower stomach, warmed his thighs, his face.

Aggravated, he lifted a silver whistle to his lips, appreciating the coolness, and signaled the start of practice and another grueling hour of pretending not to stare at a girl he'd never be allowed to touch.

* * *

"I _hate _him, papa!" Belle cried over her cup of warm tea, twisting around in the kitchen chair to look at her father who was currently bent over his worktable. "You should've heard how he spoke to me!"

Maurice resituated the spectacles sitting on his nose, grinning beneath a bushy white mustache. "He can't be worse than Gaston, can he?"

Belle sighed, exasperated. "I don't know." Her ocher eyes traveled to the ceiling, the warm wood paneling eerily similar in color to a certain _someone's _hair. "Maybe. I'm not sure yet."

"Well, if you're not sure, then certainly you don't know him well enough to decide you hate him, do you? Remember, Belle, don't—"

"—judge a book by it's cover," she finished. Her father was right, of course. It was unfair of her to decide so early that she disliked Adam. It was just…"He's so mean, though. And _angry_."

Maurice chuckled. "Maybe he simply doesn't enjoy reading."

Belle smiled. "Then he really is a horrible person."

The doorbell chimed, the sound swelling and echoing throughout the tiny home.

Belle was up before her father had the opportunity to look over. "I'll get it."

She didn't recognize the two men on her doorstep. One was tall and extremely thin, his nose long, expression haughty, but not in an annoying way. The other was comedically shorter and fat, his moustache thin and groomed.

"May I help you?"

"Is this the residence of Miss Belle?" Asked the shorter one.

"Yes," she answered, unsurely. "What's this about?"

The skinny one pulled a white envelope from the lapel of his brown vest, offering it to her. "Our master requests your presence at his home this Friday evening at half-past-six. You will accompany him for dinner."

"Master?" Belle repeated, slightly stunned as she pulled out a finely printed letter with nothing but an address. Her eyes rose back to the two men. "Dinner? Who?"

"Why, Master Adam, of course," the fat one clarified unpleasantly.

They both bowed before stepping away towards a sleek looking vehicle parked at the end of the walkway. It wasn't until she'd returned to the kitchen, had made herself a fresh cup of tea and had regained her seat at the table that she found her voice.

She looked over at her father. "He might also be crazy, papa."


	3. Chapter III

**Chapter III**

Many suspected Ariel had a crush on Eric. Few knew that Ariel was actually head over heels for him. Even less knew that they already had a past together.

The first time Ariel had met Eric was not at school. She had just moved to town with her father and sisters about a year ago, just after she'd turned seventeen. They lived near the ocean as her family had an affinity for beaches and the water. They spent most of their free time lying on the warm sand, enjoying the sun, splashing in the frothy surf.

Sometimes Ariel liked to go alone. It was nice to just close her eyes and listen to the waves crash on the shore, hear the seagulls squawking at the sky. Lying on the shore at night was her favorite as it was the quietest. That was when she'd first met Eric.

He'd been running with his dog along the beach. The sound of barking was what had alerted Ariel that someone was approaching, and she'd lifted herself up just in time to get a face full of slobbery kisses.

Max smelled like brine and wet fur. Ariel had giggled pleasantly at the adorable attack, the sound escalating to a full on laugh when Max jumped on her, forcing her back onto the sand.

"Ow!" She'd exclaimed, still smiling.

And then there he was, huffing, kneeling in the sand beside her, pulling Max off of her and smiling apologetically. "Sorry. He gets excited around strangers." Their eyes met then, and his smile faltered, surprise and keen interest replacing all apology upon the sight of her. "Are you okay?"

She remembered her heartbeat being so fast at that moment, she couldn't discern one pulse from another. Her hands moved to fix her hair, hurried and panicked because it was suddenly very important that she looked nice in front of this handsome stranger. She smiled, and it was effortless, easy, everything a smile should be. "I'm fine. He just gave me a kiss."

Eric had laughed at that, and rubbed Max on the head playfully. "You're a little flirt, aren't 'ya, boy?" His attention moved back to the girl, his own heart beating erratically, his throat growing dry. "Hope he didn't come on too strong."

"I don't mind." Ariel's hand joined Eric's in petting Max, her eyes intent on his as she spoke. "He's very handsome."

"Yeah?" The man laughed, feeling his face warm pleasantly at the subtle compliment. "Thanks. He has good taste in women."

Her smile was contagious, and eventually they both found themselves just grinning goofily at each other.

Eric was the first to snap out of it, only because he realized with a rush of embarrassment that he was shirtless and sweaty and probably smelled horrible. He offered her his hand as he stood, her palm fitting in his snugly. He didn't let go once she was on her feet, and she didn't try to pull away.

"I'm Eric." At his feet, Max barked. "Oh, and this is Max." He looked at her expectantly.

"Ariel," she introduced.

"Ariel," he repeated, his smile beautiful. "That's kind of pretty."

Eventually he released her hand as they began to walk down the beach together, the moonlight paving their path on the sand, Max darting between them, making them laugh.

They talked about everything, and Ariel would tell anyone that asked that it was that night she knew she loved him.

A week later she found herself seated in his class and the look on his face reflected exactly how she felt: disbelieving. And then they both knew that the night they'd shared which had felt like the beginning of something special would become but a memory they'd each agonize over on nights when they wondered why reality had to always be so disappointing.

There were five years between them, a mere speed bump in comparison to the steel wall placed between them by his job and her station.

So here she was now pining after a man who would never see her again as a woman, but merely a student. A hormonal teenage girl.

It was all so—

"—_unfair._"

Belle glanced over at Ariel pityingly, Jasmine listening in quietly as she finished off her lunch. They were seated at a corner table in the lunchroom, taking turns venting their current frustrations. Belle had yet to mention the strange invitation from Adam and Jasmine felt no need to acknowledge that boy from yesterday, so instead they'd been sitting quietly listening to Ariel despair over Eric.

Belle settled a comforting hand on Ariel's shoulder. "Have you tried speaking to him?"

Ariel shook her head. "He keeps avoiding me. I've tried everything. He won't even look at me anymore."

"Even at swim practice?"

"Especially at swim practice!"

Belle and Jasmine exchanged a look, both knowing Ariel was a bit naïve about some things and that her self-awareness wasn't quite…the sharpest. She was the type that might sit with her legs wide open in a mini skirt. The sort that didn't understand why someone might stare at her if she didn't wear a bra beneath a t-shirt. She was adventurous, free, and daring. And that could be very, very intimidating. Especially to a man who might lose his career if he so much as dared _hint _his interest in one of his students.

The girl fell back into her seat, taking out her phone and texting furiously. Sometimes she just needed her best friend. Too bad Flounder was hundreds of miles away.

Jasmine stilled in her seat when a warm hand pressed over her shoulder. She looked up into an annoyingly familiar face. "How's it going?"

Belle and Ariel both glanced up at the tanned intruder, neither recognizing him but knowing by the look on Jasmine's face that he wasn't wanted. The dark-haired girl looked at them, excusing herself as she stood. "I'll see you both in class. I need to take care of something."

Aladdin followed behind her, watching her back appreciatively, a love-drunk smile on his face. "See ya, ladies."

Once out of the lunchroom, Jasmine did not stop until she'd lead them both to an empty hallway, entering into what she thought was an empty classroom but was actually a closet. She shrugged, closing the door behind them. Privacy was privacy.

"I thought you didn't like me. Now you're pullin' me into the janitor's closet?" Aladdin laughed, his gaze unsure as he looked down at her.

"I _don't_ like you," she clarified. "I don't even _know _you. What do you want with me? A date?"

Her fingertip was pressed into his chest, pressing him back against the wall. His hand moved to the back of his head. He smiled, feeling a little awkward. "Well, _yeah_, sort of."

Jasmine blinked, surprised, somehow not expecting him to be nearly as straightforward as she was. She narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious. "_Why?_"

He shrugged, the motion saying he wasn't taking this seriously, the way he was looking at her saying otherwise. "You're pretty, I guess."

"Me?"

He smiled, chuckling. "Yeah."

They fell quiet, his honesty and warm gaze making the small closet feel even smaller, their bodies closer, warmer. Jasmine was painfully aware of her rising heartbeat.

"So, do you think I can have your real number this time?" He didn't sound as confident as he had yesterday, but the way in which he asked was unexpectedly sweet, as if he were shy, which Jasmine found endearing. "I promise I won't try and blackmail it out of you. If you aren't interested, I'll stop, even though it'll be hard."

"Why would it be?"

"'Cause you're kind of perfect."

The smile that was threatening to turn up died, her suspicions once again giving rise to doubt. "You mean I'm rich."

"No," he denied, and she could tell he meant it, had been lied to enough to detect when someone was telling the truth and wasn't. "Offer me any amount of money and I'll tell you I'd turn it down if it meant I could kiss you."

"Oh really?" She challenged, a smile finally curling her mouth. His fingers brushed the back of her hand before daring to grasp it, pulling it close against his hip as he leaned forward. "A thousand?"

"Nope."

She could smell him now, his scent a rich musk, warm and alluring. His hand was hot around hers, his skin smooth, his fingertips calloused.

Her eyes lifted to his. "A million."

"Pass."

Their noses brushed and she could feel his breath against her lips, his eyelashes nearly brushing hers. His forehead was warm as it pressed to hers, the weight heavy, pleasant.

Her throat was dry, her heart excited, her stomach warm. His other hand was sliding over her hip, fingers splaying across her lower back, pulling her forwards against him.

"Final offer?" He challenged. His voice was lowered, raspy and sensual.

"All the money in the world?"

"No way."

His mouth pressed over hers, the kiss immediately turning into something deep and needy before it ever had the opportunity to be sweet and experimental as a first kiss should be. And Jasmine welcomed it, her lips parting against his to allow his tongue to sweep inside her mouth, wet and warm. Her hand buried in his hair, clutching for his scalp and holding him closer, the taste of his tongue addictive.

Aladdin released her hand to slide his against her waist, his other moving lower against her back, arms encircling her until she was flush against him, one hand in his hair, her other curled into his shoulder.

As they broke apart, his teeth caught her lower lip gently, nipping it teasingly as he pulled away with a smile.

Jasmine was breathing unevenly, her heart hammering against her ribcage, her mind half disbelieving this was happening, the other half never wanting it to stop. "I think we're doing this backwards."

His smile widened. "But we're doing this?"

"Yes," she agreed, ignoring the voice in the back of her head telling her this was only going to cause problems in the future. She couldn't be bothered with thoughts right now. All she wanted was that taste again, his mouth against hers. "We are."


End file.
